


Best Friends, Big Hugs and Bad Ideas

by shoshanaisabelle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 20:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11260203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoshanaisabelle/pseuds/shoshanaisabelle
Summary: Once Albus starts letting himself do it, he can’t stop doing it. Suddenly, the excitement of Scorpius arriving early to collect him for a visit to Malfoy Manor and ruling Albus out of a Potter family Quidditch game is an excuse for a hug. They hug at the park. They hug around Albus’s house. They even hug at Malfoy Manor. Everyone is looking at them weirdly, and Rose has a permanent smirk on her face.OR 10 Times Albus And Scorpius Hugged And It Was Completely Platonic™tl;dr: The story of Albus and Scorpius's relationship, told in hugs.





	Best Friends, Big Hugs and Bad Ideas

**1**

The first time Albus hugs Scorpius he doesn’t plan it – he doesn’t even know he wants to – until his arms are wrapped tightly around his best friend and said best friend is squeaking at him.

“Okay,” Scorpius says. “Hello. Um. Have we hugged before? Do we hug?”

Albus can’t describe what made him do it, nor the comfort doing so brings. They awkwardly disentangle themselves.

“Just a slightly weird twenty-four hours.”

“What’s happened in them?”

Albus shakes off the weird feeling, composes himself and announces his brilliant idea.

 

**2**

Albus can’t remember ever feeling this awful, and that’s a feat because so far this month his dad has told him he wishes he wasn’t his son and that he couldn’t be friends with Scorpius anymore. 

He didn’t get it before. He got that not being friends with Scorpius felt terrible for him, but he didn’t get what it was doing to his best friend. He’d been stupid. Selfish. He had been there when Scorpius’s mum had died. He couldn’t even imagine losing his own.

That moment in the library, when he’d felt just the briefest glimpse of Scorpius’s agony, would haunt him forever. The idea that he has contributed to his best friend’s pain fills him with a deep and uncomfortable ache. He knows he has to make amends – whatever it takes. Whatever apology he has to make, he’ll make it. And if Scorpius doesn’t believe him, he’ll just spend the rest of his life proving he means it.

“Friends?” He asks, his heart hammering. He doesn’t know what it will do if Scorpius continues to look away from him.

Mercifully, Scorpius doesn’t. Instead, he turns to Albus and outstretches his hand.

“Always.”

Without thinking about it, Albus pulls him into their second ever hug. He needs this much more than he did last time. Immediately, a soothing sensation fills Albus’s body as Scorpius settles into the sudden breach of his personal space. 

“That’s the second time you’ve done that.”

He doesn’t sound angry though, just bemused. When they break apart, they smile at one another – and then Albus reveals his new idea.

 

**3**

It feels like Scorpius hasn’t seen Albus in so long. He blinks – tries to convince himself Albus is definitely there – and then Albus starts jabbering in his totally endearing way and Scorpius finally believes it.

“That was close! Did you see that Merman? The guy with the – and then the thing with the – whoah!”

Scorpius has no time for any of that. It’s really Albus in front of him, treading water and completely oblivious - as usual. It’s really his best friend, alive and well and bouncing up and down in the water as excited as Scorpius has ever seen him.

“It’s you.”

“It was weird though – I thought I saw Cedric start to expand – but then he sort of started shrinking again – and I looked at you and you had your wand out…”

Scorpius can’t stop looking at him. He’s mildly afraid to close his eyes, just in case he opens them again and Albus is gone and Professor Umbridge is pulling him out of the lake.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you again.”

“You just saw me two minutes ago,” Albus says. Scorpius loves the sound of his voice. An almost overpowering sense of relief suddenly overwhelms him, encouraging him to leap onto Albus with his arms outstretched.

“A lot has happened since then.”

Hugging Albus in the water isn’t easy for either of them, but Scorpius is far from caring. He feels Albus start, surprised, but laughing all the same. The sound of his best friend laughing – Scorpius could listen to it forever.

Scorpius only lets go when Albus makes the very real observation that he might drown if the hug continues. Despite the warning, Scorpius can’t help beaming at him after he lets Albus go. He did it. He brought Albus back to life. Their idea worked.

 

**Interlude**

It’s the first day back at school after the Christmas holidays and a lot has changed, but a lot hasn’t. Finding Scorpius on the train is easy. He’s exactly where he always says he is, lurking near the back of the train where only the students most desperate for a compartment travel. Albus grins when he opens the door to find him. Scorpius jumps up to meet him and the hefty book resting on his knees falls to the floor, landing on his foot with a painful crunch.

Albus stares at Scorpius, whose face betrays a slither of pain through his grin. Scorpius apparently shakes it off, and rushes Albus with a hug.

Or maybe Albus rushes Scorpius with a hug. He’s not really sure, what with the commotion that happens next. Albus has forgotten he is still holding the cage of his easily agitated snowy owl, Gottelinde, and when he swings his arms forward to greet Scorpius she is not happy about it. Scorpius jumps at the unexpected screech and loses balance mid-lunge, falling straight into Albus’s chest. Albus is caught off balance by this too, and falls backwards right through the open compartment door onto the train corridor behind him. There’s a horrible crack that Albus really hopes isn’t his skull, and then he is completely winded as Scorpius lands directly on top of his chest. 

If this situation wasn’t painful enough, Albus drops Gottelinde’s cage at some point and it crashes open. His angry owl breaks free and decides to vent her feelings by pecking the two inhabitants of the compartment.

Naturally, the noise attracts attention and Yann Fredericks and Karl Jenkins show up, wearing matching grins that suggest their birthdays have come early. Scorpius jumps back up, lets out a groan of pain from the pressure on his bruised foot, and tries to use spell to magically close the compartment doors – except Albus’s head is stuck between them.

Albus can hear Yann and Karl laughing their heads off as Scorpius grabs him by his collar and removes his head from the doorway, which he successfully closes the second time around. Albus’s ears are ringing and he feels sick.

“Sorry,” mumbles Scorpius, as he helps Albus into a sitting position. Scorpius appears to be hopping on one foot. “That was a bad idea.”

To emphasise his point, Scorpius tries to sit down too but doesn’t realise he’s about to sit on Gottelinde, who screeches again. Scorpius jumps forward and lands on his hands and knees next to Albus, who is watching, despite the thumping in his forehead, with mild entertainment.

“One of your worst ideas ever,” says Albus, smiling. He would really like to go to sleep right about now.

Scorpius forces something into his hand, and Albus opens his eyes to see half a bar of Honeydukes chocolate there and Scorpius blinking at him, apparently concerned.

“Trust you to have sweets,” says Albus, taking a large bite then offering the bar to Scorpius. Scorpius breathes a sigh of relief and takes the chocolate back, snapping off a small piece and popping it into his mouth.

There’s a silence, finally, as the pair sit side by side and ponder what just happened. Albus isn’t sure exactly what is in the chocolate, but the pain in his head seems to slowly ebb away.

“Albus?” asks Scorpius, after a few seconds.

Albus knows what he’s about to say before he says it. “The hugging’s a bit weird, isn’t it?”

He hears his best friend breathe a sigh of relief.

“Yeah,” says Scorpius, “let’s – er - not.”

Albus takes the bar of chocolate back and bites another enormous piece. “Agreed.”

 

**4**

Some days, the horror of Delphi feels like a distant memory. Today is one of those days.

Months have passed. It’s summer again and fourth year exams are rapidly approaching. Even to Scorpius, exams feel trivial compared to the knowledge he and Albus have survived fourth year against all odds.

Albus, who in one terrible alternative reality didn’t even exist. Scorpius tries not to think about that. It’s not so hard when he’s gleefully escaping breakfast, having finally worked up the bravery to do something the old Scorpius would have never attempted.

The fact that Rose said no doesn’t matter really. She’ll come round. He just can’t believe he asked her out. From the look on Albus’s face, he can’t either. They’re both breathless with laughter.

They come to a stop on a staircase that’s far enough away from the scene of obscene bravery that they’re pretty sure they won’t run into their classmates. Scorpius beams. Albus teases him, and Scorpius doesn’t think there’s anywhere else he would rather be in the world than sitting on this staircase, laughing with his best friend over his attempts to woo a girl.

Apparently they underestimate Rose’s ability to catch up with them, because she appears just in time to overhear Scorpius’s plans for their marriage and smirk at him. Scorpius is embarrassed, and then delighted. The game is on.

As Rose saunters off, Scorpius is reminded of something else. It’s a Quidditch day, and he really wants to be sitting in the stands cheering on Slytherin for the first time since he and Albus decided they didn’t like Quidditch (well, since Albus decided and Scorpius nodded along). One good thing did come out of the scariest period of his life, after all - a realisation that possibly Scorpius could be a decent Quidditch player. He’s not been sure whether to tell Albus he’s been practicing, but now that they’re laughing and joking and everything is fine he suddenly feels that revealing his secret Quidditch practices will be fine. It is.

The smile only fades from Scorpius’s face for the first time when Albus mentions his dad. He watches for Albus’s mask to break while talking - did anything else happen? He’s known his best friend long enough to recognise when Albus is putting on a brave face.

Albus is steady. To Scorpius’s relief, he even jokes about the whole thing. Scorpius feels a weight on his chest lessen. It seems like Albus’s problems with his dad are better. That pleases Scorpius more than he knows how to say, so he leans in and wraps his arms around Albus, trying to convey in a hug that he’s happy Albus and Harry are in a good place and that all the bad things that have taken place this year are finally over. 

Albus, of course, doesn’t get all that.

“What’s this?” He asks, puzzled. “I thought we decided we don’t hug.”

Scorpius remembers that incident on the train after Christmas and nearly apologises, but then he thinks again about everything they’ve been through this year and survived. They’ve started a new chapter in their story. Their lives are better now.

“I wasn’t sure,” admits Scorpius earnestly, “whether we should. In this new version of us I had in my head.”

The words come out weird and even he’s not sure what he means by that. Albus smiles, his green eyes bright, and then he leans forward.

“Better ask Rose if it’s the right thing to do.”

Scorpius jolts of the weird state of reflectiveness over their friendship and actually laughs.

“Ha! Yeah. Right.”

He heads towards the pitch with a smile on his face that doesn’t seem to want to go away. It’s not until he gets to the game that he realises he’s humming.

  

**5**

Delphi is here.

Albus isn’t sure why or when or how, but the witch who caused so much trouble the year before is back at the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. He also isn’t sure why he and Scorpius are out at the Quidditch pitch too, even though it’s the dead of night.

What he is sure of is that his thundering heart will burst out of his chest as Delphi presses her wand against Scorpius’s neck.

“STOP!” Albus screams. He’s on his knees, a couple of yards away. Albus knows his new wand is broken and his wrists are bound again. Delphi doesn’t seem to hear him.

“Crucio,” she says, and Albus sees a tiny flash of red light as the spell makes the short distance between her wand and victim.

Albus feels his heart fall out of his chest as Scorpius’s limp body shakes from the agony, his eyes shut and his face pained. Delphi’s arm is around Scorpius’s waist. She won’t let him fall to the ground. She’s laughing.

Albus is shaking too. Someone is shouting his name.

“Albus! Albus… Albus!”

Albus is wrenched from his nightmare as someone shakes him so hard he falls onto his hard bedroom floor. His back groans, but it doesn’t matter. He’s free.

He blinks at his companion several times, trying to dispel the belief that Delphi is still here, in the next room, ready to strike. He sees pale blond hair and a frightened expression that is far too human to ever mistake for Delphi.

Scorpius. 

Scorpius’s face is pink, his brow furrowed and his eyes wide with worry – as though he has been trying to wake Albus for some time.

“Albus,” he repeats, when he notices Albus’s eyes engaging with him, “you were having a nightmare. I heard you saying _her_ name.”

Albus doesn’t know what to say. His mouth is very dry. His heart is still racing like Delphi is right there, pointing a jet of red light at Scorpius.

“Scorpius,” he manages.

He hears Scorpius let out an enormous sigh of relief and then, without warning, his arms are fastened tightly around Albus.

The surge of warmth and comfort that his arms create is like eating an entire bar of Honeydukes chocolate all at once. It’s better than that. His pounding heart slowly returns to normal. His breathing calms. The sweat on his neck dries. Albus isn’t sure for how long Scorpius holds him, but when he finally lets go, Albus feels something approaching normal again.

Albus attempts a weak smile as they draw apart, but Scorpius still looks incredibly unhappy.

“You told me the nightmares stopped,” he says, not looking at Albus. His arms are still loosely around him.

Albus’s stomach drops at the hurt on his face. He doesn’t want to explain to his best friend why, months ago, he started casting silencing charms on the drapes around his bed at school as a precaution for the nightmares he still experienced every night. Months ago, when he’d gotten sick of the taunts from his fellow Slytherin fourth years and taught himself to cast the perfect silencing charm.

In the euphoria of Scorpius finally being allowed to visit during the summer holidays before their fifth year, all thoughts of nightmares and silencing charms had been forgotten.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he tries instead, braving a look at his best friend.

He suspects Scorpius has already figured out the truth, but he doesn’t ask about it.

“How often…” Scorpius tries. “How often do you still have them?”

Albus thinks. “Not as often.”

The words ‘but still a lot’ go unsaid.

Albus is still thinking about his own guilt when Scorpius tightens his arms around him again. Albus sighs into it. Scorpius doesn’t let go for a very long time.

**6**

If Scorpius was expecting anything from their final O.W.L. exam, History of Magic, it wasn’t that it would put a smile on his face. It was almost as though the exam was tailored to his exact interests. By the time Professor Tewkesbury had called time on the two-hour exam, Scorpius had honestly had a fantastic time.

To his side, Albus is wearing an expression that suggests a close family member has recently died. Scorpius suspects he did not enjoy the exam quite as much.

“We’re finished,” Scorpius reminds him gently, trying to keep the giddiness out of his voice. “That’s it – our last O.W.L. done. Squeak. Uh, Albus?”

Albus glances at him with weary eyes and seems to resign himself to something.

“All right,” he says after a deep breath. “We can talk about the exam.”

Scorpius beams at him. “It was brilliant, wasn’t it? Compare and contrast the 1999 House Elf Rights Act with the measures taken after the 1752 Goblin Rebellions. Brilliant. I could kiss old Tewkesbury.”

This line works as intended. Scorpius watches the corners of Albus’s mouth turn upwards.

“You could kiss the examiner?” repeats Albus, amused.

Scorpius imagines the wizened face of the grumpy old Professor Tewkesbury, face so creased and lined he looks like he might be in his hundreds, rather than the seventy-something they know him to be. He grins.

“Definitely,” says Scorpius.

Albus actually laughs. The sound makes Scorpius feel, if possible, even better. He hasn’t heard his best friend laughing, free of the burden of exams, for weeks.

“You’re a freak,” says Albus, but Scorpius knows he doesn’t mean it. 

Scorpius starts to say something else but is cut off by Albus suddenly seizing him around the middle, pulling him into a tight – but not unpleasant – hug. 

He returns it and tries to make his sigh of relief as quiet as possible. For the last two weeks, it’s been very difficult to raise Albus’s spirits. He hopes at least this is a good thing for their exams, but he can’t pretend he hasn’t been worried – and not entirely sure how to get Albus to talk about it.

The hug lasts longer than it should. Other students, all milling around the lake in a celebratory mood as they are, start to stare. Scorpius pats Albus on the head awkwardly.

On cue, Albus springs away and scowls at him – his hand jumping to fix his uncontrollably messy dark hair.

Scorpius laughs at him, though his body immediately misses Albus’s warmth. Scorpius isn’t sure why, because it’s a hot summer’s day.

Albus laughs too, and Scorpius takes a few seconds to fully appreciate the way his best friend’s eyes wrinkle when he laughs. His chest is purring in a way that he doesn’t think has anything to do with the History of Magic exam. Scorpius pulls Albus into another hug, mainly because he wants to mess up Albus’s hair again, and tries not to think about what that means.

 

**7**

Once Albus starts letting himself do it, he can’t stop doing it. Suddenly, the excitement of Scorpius arriving early to collect him for a visit to Malfoy Manor and ruling Albus out of a Potter family Quidditch game is an excuse for a hug. They hug at the park. They hug around Albus’s house. They even hug at Malfoy Manor. Everyone is looking at them weirdly, and Rose has a permanent smirk on her face.

When, on one summer afternoon while Albus and Scorpius are exploring Muggle London (Scorpius’s new favourite thing to do), Albus launches his arms around his best friend from behind to distract him from the nearby Muggle library, Scorpius finally says something.

“Why are you hugging me?”

He definitely twigs something is up, but there’s a cautious smile on his face that lets Albus know Scorpius is willing to humour him.

“It’s a nice day,” says Albus, trying not to sound evasive. He’s not sure he succeeds, but Scorpius turns around and away from the library - possibly without even noticing it.

They take a turn into a high street filled with brightly coloured Muggle shops and cobbled pavements that remind Albus of Diagon Alley.

“We hug all the time now,” says Scorpius.

Albus looks at him, but Scorpius doesn’t acknowledge it. He is examining an admittedly delicious-looking window display in what appears to be an artisan chocolate shop. Albus tries to work out whether Scorpius’s words are disapproving or not.

“Is it weird?” asks Albus, trying to sound as casual as he can.

There’s a pause as Scorpius apparently considers, and then he perks up. Albus knows why immediately. Scorpius has spotted the enormous chocolate fountain sitting at the back of the shop, surrounded by platters of fruit and marshmallow and biscuit and cake.

“I like it,” says Scorpius finally, before dashing into the shop.

 

**8**

Sixth year turns out to be easier than Albus ever expected. The pressure of taking his N.E.W.T.s seems to ease due to the fact he’s no longer taking any subjects he dislikes, and now there are plenty of free periods to snooze in - something he takes advantage of as often as he can. They’ve reached an unlikely truce with their classmates, who’ve finally given up the Slytherin Squib taunt after Albus’s unexpectedly excellent O.W.L. results - and nobody really bothers them now that Rose is Scorpius’s friend.

For the first time in a long time, life isn’t actually that bad, apart from one very minor thing. It’s a thing so small it barely qualifies as a thing. Albus isn’t even sure it really is a thing, except every time he sees Scorpius and Rose together his chest clenches painfully and he breaks whatever he’s holding.

The thing is - Scorpius and Rose are together a lot. They have N.E.W.T. Ancient Runes together, which irritatingly take place during Albus’s free periods - so Albus never gets to spend his leisure time with his best friend. This would be fine, except N.E.W.T. Ancient Runes seems to take up a whole lot more time than it did at O.W.L. Rose is constantly hanging around, debating tedious translations with Scorpius and making jokes about things that are apparently really funny if you understand the subject matter. Albus doesn’t find her funny.

When Scorpius blabbers on one evening about the Runes field trip he and Rose are trying to convince their professor to allow, Albus finally snaps.

“I don’t - care - about whether Rose thinks you're more likely to uncover runic texts in Kintyre than Inverness,” says Albus, a bit more rudely than he intended, but at least the thought is out there.

Scorpius is immediately taken aback. “I, er, sorry,” he says automatically, but then he seems to remember himself and his face turns stony.

“No, wait,” he says, his voice stronger now, and he stares at Albus until Albus is forced to meet his cool grey eyes, “I’m not sorry. You’ve been rude and dismissive all year every time I so much as mention Rose. It’s not healthy. I know she used to be a bit of a bully a couple of years ago, but she’s apologised and apologised. How about giving her a chance? It'll be for your own good as much as hers.”

Albus glares at the floor. “Right,” he says, not wanting to agree nor disagree.

“She’s your cousin, Albus. ” Scorpius adds, in a tone Albus is sure is supposed to sound reassuring but just annoys him further. “Talk to her.”

Albus doesn’t respond and Scorpius sighs loudly.

“Fine,” says Albus. He kicks the wall, which really hurts his foot. Scorpius does not say anything.

Scorpius arranges for Albus and Rose to work out their differences in private the very next day. Albus assumes Scorpius has pulled some prefect trick to make the empty classroom available, and he meets Rose there at exactly 6pm after dinner. He makes sure Scorpius sees him leaving the Slytherin table, but refrains from kicking any more walls.

Rose is already sitting on the teacher’s desk when Albus enters, smirking her usual smirk.

“Hi cousin,” she says.

Albus would normally ignore her, but he realises quickly that this doesn’t work in a one-on-one situation.

“Hi Rose,” he says, with gritted teeth.

“Scorpius said you wanted to talk to me,” says Rose, in a sing-song voice that grinds Albus’s nerves. She’s definitely doing it deliberately, thinks Albus. Rose knows exactly why Scorpius wants Albus to speak to her.

“Right,” says Albus, “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t look at her as he says it.

“Right,” repeats Rose. The amusement in her voice makes Albus finally look up to glare at her. “What are you sorry for?”

Albus thinks Rose is really enjoying dragging this out.

“I’m sorry for being rude to you whenever you join Scorpius and I for lunch, or walks between classes, or in the library for homework, or any time you join us really,” says Albus very quickly, like ripping off a bandage. “I’m sorry for dragging Scorpius off to the Common Room whenever we run into you, inventing fake ailments to avoid speaking to you in the corridors, and making all those jokes about that time you nearly fell off your broom in the Slytherin-Gryffindor game last year.”

“I knew that was you,” scowls Rose, but she regains her composure with impressive speed. She smiles again at Albus in her incredibly infuriating way.

“Did Scorpius tell you to say all that?” she asks.

Albus suddenly regrets apologising at all. In fact, he’s decided he’d rather argue with Scorpius than apologise for things he’s not at all sorry for. He’s about to take it all back and storm off - but then he thinks about Scorpius sitting in the Common Room, eager to hear that he and Rose are on cordial terms for once. He stops himself.

“Yes,” he grunts, and he hates himself for it.

Rose laughs, causing Albus to lift his head up to glare at her so quickly he cricks his neck.

“What?” snaps Albus.

“Scorpius has you well trained,” grins Rose, “I never thought I’d see the day you apologised for being a moody little-“

“You’re one to talk,” interrupts Albus, “indulging in Scorpius’s every whim, studying together at every opportunity you get, inviting him to Hogsmeade to look at brooms, all those detentions you got him in when you tried to steal the Felix Felicis…”

He rants along the same vein for a while, and by the time he finally loses steam some five minutes later he can tell he’s said too much. Rose is staring at him. Her smirk is finally gone and her eyes are so wide they look like they’re about to pop out.

“Oh,” she says, as though her brain is working at top speed to process some very bizarre information. For one wild moment, Albus thinks she is about to burst into tears, but then she rolls her head back and lets out a huge bark of laughter.

Once she starts, she doesn’t seem able to stop. Albus’s fury quickly dissolves into bewilderment as he observes his cousin, who has had to grab the table for support in her hysterics.

“Albus,” she says, when she can finally breathe properly again, “There’s nothing going on between Scorpius and I. Nothing. Absolutely zilch.”

Albus furrows his brows. “Why are you telling me-”

“Why do you think you’re so mad right now?” says Rose. Her eyes are sparkling. It could be tears from the laughter. 

Albus thinks. He is sure the answer is something to do with Rose. Rose, who is looking at him as though he is a complete and utter idiot. Rose, who is constantly interrupting his limited free time with his best friend and inviting herself to join them at dinner and in the library and in Hogsmeade. Rose, who makes his chest ache with jealousy every time she appears and whisks Scorpius off to another Ancient Runes class. Rose, who Scorpius fancies.

Oh.

The realisation hits Albus with such force that he thinks he might pass out from the weight of it. Rose stops laughing and jumps down from her desk as though she is concerned about the same thing. Albus feels dizzy. The next time he is aware of what is going on around him he is sitting on a chair summoned by Rose, with his cousin’s arm around him.

“I’m sorry,” she says earnestly, “I really thought you knew.”

The words take a long time to register. Albus stares at her.

“To be honest, I thought you two were secretly going at it,” says Rose, who is now blushing beetroot. Albus is still too shocked and confused to think anything of it. “I had no idea - I even told Polly Chapman to stay away, that time she said she thought you were cute…”

Albus hears her words as though from a distance.

“Polly Chapman fancied me?”

Rose hits him around the head, hard. Albus continues to stare at her, until she bursts into giggles again.

“I can’t believe it,” she grins, “boys…”

They sit there for what could be seconds and could be hours. Albus isn’t sure. It feels like he’s been hit by an avalanche and there is no way he could ever emerge from it. He simultaneously never wants to think about Scorpius again and never wants to think about anyone but Scorpius. His cheeks burn and his stomach does somersaults whenever he does think about Scorpius, and recognising that very physical reaction is terrifying.

“I don’t understand…” Albus finally mumbles. He can see his best friend’s face in his mind, but that isn’t making anything any clearer.

“You will,” Rose assures him, and then she does something she’s only ever done in front of the watchful eyes of their parents before - she leans forward and wraps her arms around him in a quick but fierce hug.

Rose leaves Albus completely dumbfounded, muttering something about James owing her money.

 

**9**

The knowledge that Albus may be in love with his best friend makes it very difficult to be around Scorpius. Rose insists, in several anxious exchanges, that Scorpius probably feels the same way and all Albus ought to do is ask him. Eventually, she gets tired of Albus talking to her about it, smirks and says “I completely understand why you didn’t make the cut for Gryffindor” - which makes Albus want to march off and tell Scorpius straight away.

He doesn’t, though, and Rose loses patience very quickly. He continues to dance around Scorpius, and in the end, it’s Scorpius who comes to him.

On one dreary Autumn afternoon after Albus has just refused to join him in a game of gobstones for fear of what might happen if left alone in their dormitory together, Scorpius follows him all the way to the lake, his face flustered and pink but determined. Albus stares at him. Scorpius has clearly run all the way after him and he looks miffed in the same way he might look if Albus asked him for help with homework on deadline day after weeks of insisting he’d finished it.

There’s a brief silence as they both stare down each other, waiting for the other to speak. Albus is gathering his words, something about wanting time alone, but his heart is thumping and his brain is struggling with the distraught look on his friend’s face. Eventually, Scorpius speaks.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you anymore,” he says, and there’s confusion and hurt and a small amount of anger in his voice and it hurts Albus more than Scorpius will ever know. “I don’t know if we’re even friends right now and I don’t know what’s changed. Please, can you talk to me instead of running away?”

Albus stops. The wind is roaring behind him, and there’s a chill that ought to go straight to his spine given his lack of a cloak. Somehow, all he can focus on is Scorpius, and how he doesn’t want to be the source of the pain on his best friend’s face.

He can’t tell Scorpius it’s nothing to do with him and everything to do with him at the same time.

Scorpius sighs. He unfastens his bulging satchel, and to Albus’s surprise it isn’t filled with half of the library, but a lot of black material. Scorpius hands Albus his cloak and Albus shrugs it on and smiles. Scorpius doesn’t smile. Instead, he observes Albus with an expression Albus has never seen on his face before. He feels his own face grow hot under Scorpius’s gaze.

“When we first became friends, I wasn't brave enough to confront you about anything - I went ahead with all your plans, including that ill-fated escapade to the Forbidden Forest and nearly drowning in the lake, - and now, because of you, I am brave enough.”

Albus listens. It’s only now he realises how much his body reacts to the sound of Scorpius’s voice. How much the quiver of pain and the way his jaw shakes makes Albus want to lean in closer and hold him and promise never to make him feel that way again. Scorpius is only inches away now. There’s a small enough height difference that the slightest lean forward could result in an accidental brush of the lips. Albus feels his face grow hot at the thought.

“You told me once before that I made you stronger, Albus. Well, you make me stronger too. And I can’t stand whatever distance this is between us.”

Albus stares into Scorpius’s steely grey eyes. Scorpius does make Albus feel stronger and his words are the encouragement Albus didn't know he needed.

Something inside him snaps. For the first time, he stops thinking about what acting on his feelings might mean, how Scorpius might react, and the many possible negative scenarios that could arise from this one desperate encounter. Albus closes the distance between them and presses his lips against his best friend’s.

Albus can tell Scorpius is as surprised as he is for their lips to suddenly be touching. He stiffens - and whatever it was he was planning to say next dies. It’s awkward. For one terrible, terrible millisecond Albus thinks he has done the worst thing he could have possibly done - but then Scorpius responds.

Instead of pulling back and asking what Albus is doing, Scorpius sighs a little into Albus’s lips and - oh, Dumbledore - Scorpius is kissing him back. Instead of wrestling Albus off and running away, Scorpius steps forward and closes the distance between their bodies, fastening his arms around Albus as he does. It’s a relief, because Albus thinks he might fall over from the sudden onslaught of feeling the experience creates. It’s as though a Quidditch team comprising entirely of beaters are firing bludgers around his stomach, yet somehow it's the best feeling in the world. 

It’s a long, long time before they remember where they are, standing in public by the lake on a moderately cold day, wrapped around each other. Albus feels a little dizzy when they do break apart. Perhaps it’s because he’s pretty sure he forgot to breathe throughout the entire exhilarating experience. 

He looks up at Scorpius, who is staring at him with what Albus is sure is exactly the same expression that is on Albus’s face. His mouth is still slightly open - Albus eyes his quivering bottom lip, and he is looking at Albus as though he is hope and happiness and wonder all at once.

“Oh,” says Scorpius. He’s looking at Albus’s lips now too. There’s a silence while Albus tries to process exactly what happened, and then he hears Scorpius murmur, “Me too.”

Albus feels his face break into an enormous grin. Scorpius is grinning too. Suddenly, the idea that he has just been kissing his best friend, in public by the lake of all places, is the most hilarious thought Albus has ever had. He’s laughing before he can stop himself, and so is Scorpius, and Albus knows everything is going to be fine.

 

**10**

Like any couple, they have their ups and downs. Much to Scorpius’s surprise, seventh year flies by. One minute they’re starting their final year at Hogwarts, the next they’re applying for jobs, and the next they’re finishing their N.E.W.T. exams and being given lectures on ‘the future'.

The teachers at Hogwarts have an uncanny knack for making ‘the future’ sound big and scary, and Scorpius notices how much his boyfriend seems to be affected by it. Unlike Scorpius, Albus still has no idea what he wants to do with his life after school. He has a very clear idea about what he _doesn’t_ want to do, which seems to be anything his father suggests. Harry is possibly being overly helpful towards his youngest son, and Albus is not appreciative. The list of careers Albus doesn’t want probably outnumbers the list of careers he’s qualified for.

“Maybe I should actually go into pigeon racing,” Albus says glumly, one summer afternoon, their last day of school – freedom – before they board the Hogwarts Express the next day for the long journey home.

“What?” says Scorpius. He’s distracted by his own thoughts, playing with Albus’s hair as he lies in Scorpius’s lap by the lake. It’s the very same spot they shared their first kiss, more than a year ago.

“Dad’s scared of – never mind,” says Albus.

“How are things with your dad?” asks Scorpius. He suspects relations are not brilliant, but far better than they had been that year Albus had decided to go back in time.

“Some things never change,” groans Albus. He shuts his eyes in frustration.

Scorpius sighs and takes his hand. Albus blinks up at him.

“Some things do,” he reminds him.

A sweet smile appears on Albus’s face – the one Scorpius will never tire of seeing and seems to be especially reserved for him. It only lasts a second, however, and then that resigned, worried expression is back on Albus’s face as he leans back further onto Scorpius.

It’s then Scorpius hears Albus say the words he didn't think he’d hear: “I’m scared.”

Scorpius pulls Albus upright, so he can slide his arms around him. Albus sinks into his arms, and lets out a very quiet exhale of breath.

“So am I,” admits Scorpius, “It’s all right. It’s fine. We’re wizards. We’ll figure it out. We’ve been through worse.”

Albus doesn’t reply. Scorpius knows his thoughts have drifted to Delphi, as Scorpius’s have. He knows Albus still has nightmares about her from time to time – it’s a rule that Albus has to tell him when he does, on the increasingly rare occasions Scorpius isn’t in bed beside him to notice. Her impact on them, and their relationship, is too large to simply ignore. In a weird way, Delphi was right. He and Albus are meant to be together. When Albus is pressed against him like this, it feels right.

“I know you’ll be an incredible wizard, Albus,” says Scorpius, “whatever you decide to do – and it’ll come to you.”

Albus groans again. He lifts himself out of Scorpius’s arms and turns to look at him.

“You’ll write, won’t you?” he says, with all the urgency of the very first time they were separated from one another – their first Christmas at Hogwarts. Scorpius smiles at the memory.

“I won’t have to write,” says Scorpius, “I’ll be in London with you. I’ll come over, after work. If that’s all right with your parents, I mean. Or you can come to mine. I’m not sure how to cook though. It’s probably not difficult. I’ll get some books…”

“No more books,” grins Albus, “I can cook.”

“Does making sandwiches count as cooking?” ponders Scorpius aloud. Albus hits him.

“I can cook – actual stuff - now,” he says, with an air of self-importance. “Dad taught me, before we argued at Christmas. Well. Mostly I’m good at cakes.”

This might be the best piece of information Scorpius has learnt all day. He licks his lips. “Cakes?”

Albus laughs. “I knew that would get your attention. You can come over any time for cake – oh, or.”

He stops, dumbstruck, as though a bludger has hit him in the head. Scorpius stares at him. He has that dangerously excited look on his face that Scorpius associates with an incredibly reckless and stupid idea, such as stealing a time turner to go back in time. Scorpius mentally prepares himself to reject any idea Albus is about to suggest, so when Albus finally does declare his idea, and it isn’t insane, it catches Scorpius off-guard.

“Let’s move in together,” says Albus.

Scorpius stares at him.

Albus seems to take his lack of a response as a challenge. “It’s a great idea. I don’t want us to be separated – and my family drives me nuts. I know I’ll figure out what I want to do a lot faster without Dad breathing down my neck. And I can cook. That’s if you wanted. Maybe.”

He watches Scorpius. Scorpius is still flabbergasted at the idea – and the fact that his heart is already telling him very clearly that this is Albus’s best idea to date.

He thinks about Albus’s terrible house-keeping skills, his inability to even keep a flobberworm alive for a few hours and his tendency to leave dirty clothes all over the dormitory floor so that Scorpius trips over them in the dark when he’s trying to crawl into bed with him.

He thinks about waking up beside Albus every day, talking to his best friend about their long working days over dinner and cosy nights in without family or classmates to bother them. He thinks a lot about the nights in without family or classmates to bother them.

Scorpius’s face breaks into an enormous smile.

“I want to,” he says. He couldn’t mean it more.

It would be worth agreeing to move in with Albus just for the utter radiance doing so creates on his boyfriend’s face. Albus couldn’t look happier when he seizes Scorpius round the middle in a hug so forceful that Scorpius topples backwards and they both land on the warm grass behind him.

“Ouch,” says Scorpius, mostly in jest. Albus kisses him – and he forgets about the pain.

“I love you,” says Albus between kisses.

He’s said it many times before, but this time feels particularly special. Scorpius feels the purr of satisfaction in his chest that he’s become accustomed to and it's assurance enough that living together is the best bad idea Albus has ever had. In fact, it might not even be a bad idea.

“I love you too,” Scorpius replies.

**Author's Note:**

> WOW, THAT WAS CHEESY. I’M SORRY. I'M CRINGING TOO. I was feeling sad and writing this cheered me up, but I may have gone into fluff overkill.
> 
> I feel like there might be more to write in this universe (particularly between 9-10 and 10+) but writing 20 Scorbus hugs felt a bit OTT. Perhaps I'll write more if the inspiration strikes!
> 
> Also, Scorpius after a history exam is me after a history exam. Not sorry.


End file.
